UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


THE  ROSE 


JAMES    RUSSELL    LOWELL 


JAMES    R.   OSGQOD    AND    COMPANY 

LATE  TICKNOR  &  FIELDS,  AND  FIELDS,  OSGOOD,  &  Co. 
1878 


146124 


COPYRIGHT,  1877. 
JAMES  R.  OSGOOD  &  CO. 


PS 


3£tst   of  Illustrations 


ENGRAVED  BY  A.  V.  S.  ANTHONY. 


"  In  his  tower  sat  the  poet " 

"  On  the  rock  the  billow  bursteth  "... 
"  Take,  O  sea !  the  tender  blossom  "  .  . 
"  Forth  into  the  night  he  hurled  it "  .  . 
"  Foam  and  spray  drive  back  to  leeward  " 
"  Stands  a  maiden,  on  the  morrow  "  .  . 
"  Touch  not,  sea,  the  blessed  letters  "  .  . 
"  Brings  a  little  rose,  and  throws  it "  .  . 
"  Full  of  bliss  she  takes  the  token  "... 

"  The  ocean's  fierce  unrest " 

"  In  his  tower  sits  the  poet " 

"  Up  the  beach  the  ocean  slideth  "... 
"  Maiden  lips,  with  love  grown  bolder  "  . 

Tail-Piece 

Vignette  —  Rose 


C.  S.  REINHART. 
R.  SWAIN  GIFFORD. 
C.  S.  REINHART. 
A.  V.  S.  ANTHONY. 
A.  R.  WAUD. 
MARY  HALLOCK  FOOTE. 
A.  V.  S.  ANTHONY. 
C.  S.  REINHART. 
MARY  HALLOCK  FOOTE. 
R.  SWAIN  GIFFORD. 
C.  S.  REINHART. 
A.  V.  S.  ANTHONY. 
C.  S.  REINHART. 
A.  V.  S.  ANTHONY. 
F.  T.  MERRILL. 


THE    ROSE 


A   BALLAD. 


IN  his  tower  sat  the  poet 
Gazing  on  the  roaring  sea, 


The  Rose. 

"  Take  this  rose,"  he  sighed,  "  and  throw  it 

Where  there  's  none  that  loveth  me. 
On  the  rock  the  billow  bursteth 

And  sinks  back  into  the  seas, 


The  Rose. 

But  in  vain  my  spirit  thirsteth 
So  to  burst  and  be  at  ease. 


Take,  O  sea!   the  tender  blossom 
That  hath  lain  against  my  breast; 


The  Rose. 

On  thy  black  and  angry  bosom 
It  will  find  a  surer  rest. 

Life  is  vain,  and  love  is  hollow, 
Ugly  death  stands  there  behind, 

Hate  and  scorn  and  hunger  follow 
Him  that  toileth  for  his  kind." 

Forth  into  the  night  he  hurled  it, 


The  Rose. 

And  with  bitter  smile  did  mark 
How  the  surly  tempest  whirled  it 

Swift  into  the  hungry  dark. 
Foam  and  spray  drive  back  to  leeward, 


And  the  gale,  with  dreary  moan, 
Drifts  the  helpless  blossom  seaward, 
Through  the  breakers  all  alone. 


-. 


II. 

Stands  a  maiden,  on  the  morrow, 
Musing  by  the  wave-beat  strand, 


The  Rose. 

Half  in  hope  and  half  in  sorrow 

Tracing  words  upon  the  sand: 
"  Shall  I  ever  then  behold  him 

Who  hath  been  my  life  so  long,  - 
Ever  to  this  sick  heart  fold  him, — 

Be  the  spirit  of  his  song  ? 
Touch  not,  sea,  the  blessed  letters 

I  have  traced  upon  thy  shore, 


The  Rose. 

Spare  his  name  whose  spirit  fetters 
Mine  with  love  forevermore ! " 


Swells  the  tide  and  overflows  it, 
But,  with  omen  pure  and  meet, 

Brings  a  little  rose,  and  throws  it 
Humbly  at  .the  maiden's  feet. 


The  Rose. 


Full  of  bliss  she  takes  the  token, 
And,  upon  her  snowy  breast, 


The  Rose. 

Soothes  the  ruffled  petals  broken 
With  the  ocean's  fierce  unrest. 


"  Love  is  thine,  O  heart !   and  surely 
Peace  shall  also  be  thine  own, 

For  the  heart  that  trusteth  purely 
Never  long  can  pine  alone." 


III. 

In  his  tower  sits  the  poet, 

Blisses  new  and  strange  to  him 


The  Rose. 

Fill  his  heart  and  overflow  it 

With  a  wonder  sweet  and  dim. 

Up  the  beach  the  ocean  slideth 

With  a  whisper  of  delight, 


And  the  moon  in  silence  glideth 

Through  the  peaceful  blue  of  night. 
Rippling  o'er  the  poet's  shoulder 


The  Rose. 


Flows  a  maiden's  golden  hair, 
Maiden  lips,  with  love  grown  bolder, 

Kiss  his  moonlit  forehead  bare. 
"  Life  is  joy,  and  love  is  power, 

Death  all  fetters  doth  unbind, 


The  Rose. 

Strength  and  wisdom  only  flower 

When  we  toil  for  all  our  kind. 
Hope  is  truth,  —  the  future  giveth 

More  than  present  takes  away, 
And  the  soul  forever  liveth 

Nearer  God  from  day  to  day." 
Not  a  word  the  maiden  uttered, 

Fullest  hearts  are  slow  to  speak, 
But  a  withered  rose-leaf  fluttered 

Down  upon  the  poet's  cheek. 


146124 


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This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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